


I've Got The Backside Of Your Hand (And I Can't Hold On Anymore)

by anything_thats_rock_and_roll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, Substance Abuse, breaking up, relationship decline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anything_thats_rock_and_roll/pseuds/anything_thats_rock_and_roll
Summary: They had sworn things were going to be different. As they had washed the windows of the dingy flat and pulled back the curtains to let timid stirrings of light filter in, as Sirius’ hands had molded his around a fresh cup of tea, as he had knelt before him, looking up with wide, earnest eyes, Sirius had promised it. And for a few weeks, it seemed true.





	I've Got The Backside Of Your Hand (And I Can't Hold On Anymore)

They had sworn things were going to be different. As they had washed the windows of the dingy flat and pulled back the curtains to let timid stirrings of light filter in, as Sirius’ hands had molded his around a fresh cup of tea, as he had knelt before him, looking up with wide, earnest eyes, Sirius had promised it. And for a few weeks, it seemed true.

At first, Remus woke up to Sirius singing Beatles songs all wrong as he made them breakfast. One day on the way home, Remus stopped by the bakery on a whim, bringing home an entire box full of Sirius’ favorite Chelsea buns. Sirius’s mouth had formed a perfect O, bouncing slightly as he pulled Remus into a kiss.

And then, so slowly he swore it wasn’t happening, everything shifted just out of focus again. Sirius quit making breakfast, and then stopped eating whatever Remus made until he didn’t even bother coming to the table at mealtimes. When the owl came with news of the McKinnon’s deaths, Remus sank to the floor and watched as the tails of Sirius’ robes flashed around the corner. By the time Sirius quit coming home most nights, Remus couldn’t even bring himself to feel surprised.

And now Sirius was busting in the door again, far too late, with wild eyes and shaking hands. Remus came slowly down the stairs, taking in the dark circles, the bloody nose, the glassy stare. Too tired to give Sirius the fight he was so clearly spoiling for, he turned around and went back to bed. He could hear Sirius downstairs, raging at nothing and throwing dishes, until all he could hear were sobs. Laying motionless in the dark, Remus wondered why he didn’t get up to comfort him.

The next time Sirius stumbled in the door, only vacant bookshelves and an abandoned mug, the one that used to be Remus’ favorite, were there to greet him.


End file.
